


Between the end and where we lie

by ledeuxiemesexe



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, FC Barcelona, Football, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-03
Updated: 2015-01-03
Packaged: 2018-03-05 04:00:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3104783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ledeuxiemesexe/pseuds/ledeuxiemesexe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>love can blossom even in a bleak dystopian world</p>
            </blockquote>





	Between the end and where we lie

Carles comes home after a long day at work. Whoever said landscaping could be such hard work? He's in no mood for anything but a long shower and then sleep. He's too tired to even eat. When he enters the apartment he has to share with a roommate by government order, the ruckus the younger man has created annoys him immensely.

He spends the next 20 minutes yelling at Gerard, while the taller man who's turned half of the room into a lab tries to assuage his rage with jokes and lame explanations that he's working on something that might change the world.

When, exhausted after the all the shouting (much of it his own), Carles finally gets into the shower, there's no more cold water. Suppressing himself, for the sake of his own sanity, Carles goes to bed decided to find a way to get rid of Gerard from the apartment. It's been the very last straw in a cohabitation marred by escalating arguments.

*

When Carles wakes up the next day, the flat is spotless and there's not only fresh orange juice in a pitcher on the table, but also coffee, real coffee, its smell ravishing the hungry man in an instant. Gerard is gone, so Carles helps himself to the scrambled eggs and all the delicious food left for him. He hadn't known Gerard cooked so well. Perhaps he could tolerate his mischief for that kind of repayment.

 

*

They don't talk much. Carles works long hours and whenever he's home, he's too tired for proper conversation. Gerard is rarely at home anymore, having taken the hint that working on whatever he's planning in the flat is a big offence.

Even if the quarrel has long been forgotten, Carles still finds breakfast basically ready and a part of him is ashamed for not telling Gerard there's no need for that anymore. Every-time he thinks he'll find the other at home, so they could talk about housing arrangements, Carles is disappointed.

*

The apartment is eerily quiet. As far as Carles knows, Gerard's not been home for the last 4 days. Carles only knows this for sure because of the lack of breakfast, but it's not breakfast he misses. His job is earthbound and Carles doesn't get to be around people a lot, so Gerard was for what's it worth, his sole stable human interaction.

Finding he misses the clumsy fool Gerard's always seemed to be is quite a surprise. Getting home to his absence, to the peace and calm of the flat and to the possibility of a long hot shower is no longer the prize of the evening. It's what takes the fun out of it, since it means Gerard's away.

He knows Gerard is OK though, unharmed and healthy, otherwise the government would let him know immediately that he should find a new roommate. The government is strict about housing regulation and kept track of people sharing an apartment.

He just wishes the younger man was back.

 

*

 

It's been 6 days and while Carles tries not to actually worry, deep down, he can feel his heart rattling in its cage. Restlessness takes over him even when he's supposed to work. He decides to contact someone, anyone, who might know of Gerard's whereabouts.

When he gets home that evening, the music blares so loudly through the front door, Carles immediately thinks that in his tiredness, he must've entered the wrong building. Somehow, he still tries the access card and once in, there it is. The unmistakable mayhem of Gerard Pique's presence unleashes itself onto him.

Gerard is dancing madly around the main room, in nothing but the skimpiest shorts Carles has ever seen a grown man in. When the tall blond turns around and notices him, he stops dead in his tracks and frantically reaches to turn down the volume.

But Carles is smiling and shakes his head, starting dancing himself. He doesn't know what urges him to do that, but in 20 seconds, he's shaking his hips and truly enjoying himself. Gerard looks tired, but so radiant and happy, that it catches on and once they finish dancing, which takes a while, Carles has all but forgotten how worried he was.

Like there's been no absence, Gerard starts cooking dinner, taking out real meat and real potatoes from his backpack. Carles is stunned and recalls all the of the last few days' anguish.

“Where have you been? What have you been working on? I hope you're not in trouble!” Carles shots in rapid fire.

Gerard laughs. He checks the oven and the smell of roast is making Carles mouth water.

“I've been working on something for a while. It's quite top secret and it'll be of much use in the future. But now, now I just want us to have dinner. We haven't had a meal together in a while.”

Carles understands and nods in approval. What he doesn't understand is why his heart's swollen oh so suddenly. They eat the best dinner Carles has ever tasted and they talk for hours, talking about nothing and everything at the same time. Gerard eventually falls asleep, his head in Carles' shoulder and the older man carries him to bed. As he pulls the covers over him, he accidentally brushes his chest. The burning sensation in his fingers keeps Carles awake for half the night.

 

*

 

They settle into some sort of routine. Gerard is gone for days and sometimes weeks, but when he's home – albeit for only a couple days at a time – it's time to party. Carles feels 25 again, not a care in the world and when he's with Gerard it's like it Christmas and his birthday rolled into one.

He cannot recall why he used to despise the buoyant younger man, why he was such a dull creature himself, denying himself the pleasures of life, of a good conversation or of a shared meal.

Carles is happiest when Gerard's home and days drag forever when he's not. But he knows that whatever Gerard's working on is important – for the whole of human kind as Gerard once put it – so he waits as patiently as he can.

 

*

 

Carles reaches home and is sad to not find Gerard there. It's been unusually long this time, and Carles has been hoping to get to the flat and find his friend there for a while. His disappointment is obvious as he hangs his coat and takes off his shoes.

It's no fun to cook dinner for one, but Carles needs to eat. The synthetic meat will never make a steak as good as the real deal, but the meat provided on his coupons is still more fulfilling than the hydroponic vegetables he gets served at work.

Just as he's tasting the foul-smelling pasta he's made, the door springs open and in a matter of seconds, Gerard's wrapped his arms around him, their faces so close he can see the very glimmer in the taller man's eyes. When Gerard kisses him, Carles has no other response than kissing him back.

“I did it!” Gerard bellows, pulling Carles into a tight hug.

He lets go slowly and the two men look at each other, not even acknowledging what they've done. Gerard's excitement of unknown origin rubs onto Carles, who hugs him close in his turn and kisses him.

They fumble onto the couch and kiss for minutes, more and more passionately, clutching at each other's clothes, pulling at them, and only the pasta pot catching fire breaks them apart.

Breathless and red in the face, Carles puts out the fire and tries to salvage what's left of the odious pasta. Gerard continues to grin, unperturbed in his glee by the incident.

“I found a way to transport souls into someone's dream, Carles. They're building a dream world, Carles and I’m part of the project! They're building Vheissu!” Gerard finally unburdens himself of the grand secret.

Carles stares at Gerard and he can feel something bubbling inside of him. The feeling is indescribable and Carles will always remember that night as the beginning of the end.

**Author's Note:**

> \- preparatory vignette for long story about dream world Vheissu. The term Vheissu is borrowed from Thomas Pynchon's novel V.  
> – the title of this story is a song name from Thrice's album Vheissu, also inspired by Pynchon's novel quite obviously; I don't know the song / band, I just googled “Vheissu” and this was the first hit


End file.
